Heart Like Mine (17 page)

She tapped her pen against her lips, obviously having no idea how the repetitive motion was torturing him. Then she tapped on the paper, seeming to come to a decision.

“You and I both know that if the board decides to shut down pediatrics, there will be a public uproar, right? They know it, too, so if they're truly going to look at this option, one of the first things they're going to do is fire up the spin machine. They're going to try to convince people that the department is bare bones and underutilized, and they'll try to make it sound like we're actually
improving
pediatric care by getting kids faster, better access to Boston hospitals.”

Josh shook his head. Yes, he could imagine the meetings.

“So,” she continued, “I think our best bet is to work the publicity machine ourselves. First side to get the spin
controls
the spin, right?”

He shook his head again, trying to follow her train of thought. “How do you propose to—quote—‘work the machine'?”

He saw a sparkle in her eyes. “We make Mercy Hospital's pediatric department the focus of as much positive news as we can, as widely as we can, for the next few weeks.”

“How do we do that?”

“I was hoping you'd ask.” She smiled and pulled a third piece of paper from her notebook, sliding it toward him. “This is a quick list I drew up this morning—initiatives I see working, unique treatments we could publicize, kids we could profile—all with the end goal of making this entire community see how valuable this pediatric department is to the area.”

She paused as he picked up the list. “And with the
end
end goal of making the board too afraid to risk community outrage by closing it down.”

*   *   *

“So what did he say?” Megan handed Delaney a Dunkin' Donuts coffee as she blasted through the front door of Delaney's condo the next morning. “And why are we wearing a dress on a Saturday morning?”

Delaney looked down at the peach-colored dress she'd finally settled on after discarding one of her suits as too stiff, and her shorts as too casual.

“I have another—meeting—this morning.”

Megan lifted her eyebrows as she settled her butt on one of Delaney's counter stools. “A meeting? With who?”

“Whom. Joshua.”

Her eyebrows lifted farther. “We're finally on a first-name basis?”

“He keeps asking me to call him—Josh. At some point, it felt rude not to. But I think Joshua suits him better. He just seems like more of a Joshua to me.” Delaney shrugged, taking a sip of the scalding-hot coffee.

Joshua.
Delaney rolled the name around in her head, loving the sound of it.

“So I'm assuming dinner went well, if it's leading to breakfast? What'd he think of your ideas?”

Delaney pictured Joshua's face after she'd presented her publicity idea—a mix of disbelief, relief, and fear competing for control.

“It took him a few minutes to process, but in the end, I think he agreed with me.”

“That's good, right? Why don't you look happier about it?”

“Because I still don't know if it'll work. This plan is a seriously last-ditch effort.”

Megan looked hurt. “Hey, we worked hard on that list. There's a lot of good stuff going on at Mercy, and nobody knows about it. This is a good plan.”

“I know. He thinks it's worth a shot.” Delaney clasped a gold locket around her neck and checked her reflection in the mirror. “He invited me to Avery's House this morning. Some reporter from the
Boston Globe
is coming to interview Ethan and Josie Miller about the house, and I think I convinced him that maybe we can get her interested in Mercy as well.”

“I'll call Felicity Johnson from WFET this morning. She owes me a favor. I bet I can get something on within a week.”

Delaney felt her own eyebrows rise this time. “What
kind
of a favor?”

“Can't tell.” Megan shook her head. “But trust me. She'll do this. And I've got calls in to the
Free Press
and the
Times Argus
and the
Herald
. We'll
kill
them with coverage. The board will never know what hit them.”

“They'll have to be overwhelmed with all of the positive energy.” Delaney smiled. “Right?”

“Let's hope so.” Megan stood up and made a spinning motion with her hand. “Come on. Let's see you. I need to approve the sexy factor here.”

“I'm not going for the sexy factor.” Delaney did an obligatory spin, rolling her eyes. It wasn't like she hadn't spent half the night thinking about … sexy.

But sometime before dawn, as she'd woken up from a sweet dream that had her all hot and bothered, she'd given herself a firm shake. There was no future with a man like Joshua, who worked from dawn until way past dusk. Sure, he might be a great dinner date—funny and sweet wrapped up in a crazy-hot package—but she already knew what life with a doctor looked like.

She'd lived it, and she'd watched her mother live it, and when tragedy had struck, her parents' marriage had been so tenuous that they'd become just another tick on some statistician's scale—the kind that measured marital survival after a child's death.

Yes, they were still married, but her mother's room was fully on the other end of the house from her father's, and the only dinners they ate together were the ones they faked for Delaney's benefit, or the ones put on by one charitable group or another—the kind where Mom would pick out a new dress, make a salon appointment, and sit through the event with that empty smile she'd perfected after Parker's death.

Delaney had been dragged to enough of those dinners that she could predict the sound track down to the ten-minute mark. First there would be the comments on one another's dresses, which led inevitably to the latest fad in magic vegetables that let them
fit
into said dresses.

Eventually talk would come around to new boats, or next winter's vacations, and through it all ran a thread of quiet, but powerful, competition. Who made the most, who had the biggest whatever, who was traveling the farthest—it was always the undertone.

But the overwhelming feeling she left each event with was a disquieting realization that so many of the wives didn't even know their husbands—not really. How could they? The hours doctors kept were insane. Yes, the bank accounts were nice, and she knew some of those wives were in it exactly
for
those accounts, but really?

She knew figures were available for the divorce rate among physicians, but had anyone ever tried to calculate the empty-marriage rate?

She'd decided a long time ago that she was never going to be one of those statistics. And as much as it pained her to realize it, entertaining any delusions about a possible future with Joshua was just inviting heartbreak.

“Why such a glum face?” Megan tipped her head as she adjusted a flyaway hair on Delaney's forehead, jarring her out of her memories. “I'd be happy to go in your place.”

Delaney smiled, but she knew it looked forced. “I need to find me a nice auto mechanic or hardware store owner or something.”

“You can't force yourself to fall for a nine-to-five guy, Laney—not if you're already falling for one who decidedly—isn't.”

“Not falling.”

“I call bullshit.”

Delaney sighed. “Okay, then. How about this? It would be a very bad
idea
to fall for him.”

“Agreed.”

Delaney frowned. “You're not going to argue?”

“You'd just argue back, and we'd waste all that time. It's kind of pointless, when we both know you're already ten steps into quicksand here.”

Delaney sat down hard on the other bar stool. “This isn't how this was supposed to go. It's completely unprofessional to have feelings for this guy. Which I don't. But if I did…”

“Can't control these things.”

“Remember how I pictured him before you showed me his profile?”

“Middle-aged and sloppy? Yes.”

“I'm just saying, I think I'd rather he was that.”

“Guess the Fates had a different plan for you, honey.”

“Stupid Fates.”

Megan laughed, pulling out her phone to check the time. “When are you meeting Mister Not-Sloppy-Not-Old?”

Delaney looked at the clock over her sink. “Oh, God. Now. I have to go.”

“I'll expect a full report later.”

“Wish me luck.” Delaney blew out a breath as she took one more look in the mirror. Her cheeks were pink, like she'd already run her miles this morning.

“I wish you luck
and
sex.”

“Megan!”

“What?” Megan shrugged, feigning innocence. “I do!”

Delaney opened the door, waving her through. “I'll work on the luck, if it's all the same to you.”

“Fine.” Megan ducked through. “Then
I'll
wish for the sex.”

 

Chapter 15

“So, Josh says you two are on a mission.” Josie Miller leaned across the table at Avery's House late that afternoon, conspiracy in her tone. Despite her intent to stay for an hour or two at most, Delaney had been at the converted hotel for eight hours now, and she was ready to move in. She'd never seen a more gorgeous place in her entire life.

She shrugged uncomfortably, unsure of how much Josh had told Josie. She was dead sure he wouldn't have mentioned the confidential board minutes, but these were his best friends. What if he had? He and Ethan were currently giving the
Globe
reporter an extended tour of the house, hoping to drum up sympathy, donors, and a couple of feature spots for Mercy in one fell swoop.

Delaney picked her words carefully. “We're just trying to reach out and make sure people know all the good things going on.”

That sounded plausible, right?

Josie eyed her curiously, like she could feel the bullshit oozing from Delaney's pores, but she didn't say anything.

Delaney looked out the back window, desperate to change the subject, and a riot of flowers caught her eye.

“Wow. It's gorgeous out there. Did you do the landscape design yourself?”

Josie looked at her for one beat too long, letting her know that she knew exactly what Delaney was doing, but for some reason, she let her get away with it.

“Do you know Molly Bellini?”

“Just met her last night, actually.” Delaney nodded. “Is she a designer?”

“No. But she wields a mean shovel after a breakup.”

Delaney laughed, then cringed. “Sorry. Not funny, I'm sure.”

Josie shrugged. “It's okay. It wasn't meant to be. She's better single, most of the time. For now, anyway.”

“So…” Delaney struggled to find the words to ask the question that had been burning in her stomach since last night. “Do she and Joshua ever date?”

“Not since middle school. So yes. Josh is single, if you're at all curious.”

“What? No,” Delaney stammered. “I don't—”

Josie rolled her eyes, but not unkindly. “Honey, I may be married, but I'm not blind. That man is one gorgeous specimen, and he's the nicest guy you'll ever meet, besides Ethan.” She smiled fondly. “The two of them are quite a pair.”

“I can't believe you've all known each other since high school.”

“Friends forever, and all that.” Delaney saw a cloud pass over Josie's face, but then her smile returned. “Just so you know, Josh has very definite plans about his future.”

“Oh?” Delaney swallowed. She was about to get a talking-to. She could feel it.

“They include not getting serious with anyone until he has his own pediatric practice all established. This is why he doesn't have a girlfriend. He's pretty careful not to.”

“Oh.” Delaney's stomach fell, and she hated that it did so. “Really?”

“Yup. I mean, not that you care, particularly. Just want you to know that, even though you're not—whatever.” She shrugged, but Delaney swore she could see amusement in her eyes. Still, there was a serious undertone she couldn't ignore.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Is this—are you giving me a warning?”

“Nah.” Josie raised her eyebrows. “I'm giving you an abject challenge.”

*   *   *

“Got any champagne, you guys?” Joshua came back into the kitchen of Avery's House after seeing off the reporter, his smile bigger than Delaney had seen it all week. “I think we just nailed a page one story.”

“Really?” Josie leaped up from the table, hugging him hard. “That's fantastic!”

Ethan nodded as he gathered wineglasses from a top shelf and brought them to the table. “She said she got so much good stuff that she's going to split it into two top-fold Sunday features. First half runs this coming Sunday.”

“Oh, my God.” Josie motioned toward Delaney. “What about a tie-in to Mercy? Did she bite?”

Josh nodded, pulling out the chair next to Delaney. “She
loved
that angle. She's coming back up on Monday to do some spots on the floor. I need to talk to somebody about getting parental permission for her to talk to a couple of the kids. Delaney? Do you know who we should talk to?”

She nodded, already making a mental list. “I'm sure we can find out. Think we can get Charlotte's parents to okay it?”

“She'd be perfect. Let's try.”

Just then, Molly Bellini blasted through the side door, then raised her eyebrows when she saw them sitting at the table. She raised her eyebrows even farther when she noticed Delaney, but shook her head quickly and refocused on Ethan.

“What are we celebrating, peeps?” She set down her purse and pulled out a chair, bouncing into it like she might pop right back out. “And yes, I'll have whatever we're having.”